


Melt With You (Remix)

by sentinel28II



Series: One Night in Atlas [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Awkward First Times, F/M, It was the best of times, It was the worst of times, Jaune sure has grown up, Once More with Feeling, Rewrite, Team JNPR - Freeform, Team RWBY - Freeform, Weiss isn't as sure as she thought she was
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21926668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentinel28II/pseuds/sentinel28II
Summary: Weiss has decided to lose her virginity to Jaune Arc, but she's having second thoughts.  So is Jaune, who isn't sure where he actually stands with Weiss, or if he'll ever be over Pyrrha.  They don't love each other, but could they at least be lovers for one night?
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Weiss Schnee
Series: One Night in Atlas [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575496
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	Melt With You (Remix)

**Author's Note:**

> The long-awaited (well, sort of) sequel to “Doubleback." I originally posted this last night, but a well-thought out critique by Zenith Tempest made me reconsider what I hath wrought. So I rewrote it, and damn if it isn't a much better story. Thanks, Zenith. 
> 
> There's still some comedic aspects to this, but it's now less funny and more sentimental. But still funny. In parts. And sentimental. In parts. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you hopefully won't hurl.

_Atlas Academy_

_Atlas, World of Remnant_

_Two Years After the Fall of Beacon_

_One Second After Weiss Took Off Her Nightdress_

“W-Weiss?” Jaune Arc stammered. “What—what are you doing?”

Weiss Schnee sighed. “Shall we recap the events of the last five seconds? I’ve just asked if you were still technically a virgin, since you and Pyrrha never actually had coitus. You replied in the affirmative, and I told you that I am a virgin, and added ‘Not for long.’ Which part of that did you not grasp?”

“The part where you started taking off your clothes!” Jaune exclaimed. 

Weiss put a hand on her hip and graced Jaune with a glacial expression. “Jaune, it’s really quite simple. I have decided to no longer be a virgin. You are the only male available that isn’t taken, old enough to be my father, or fifteen years old.”

Jaune felt insulted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence!”

Weiss regretted it instantly, and her voice softened. “I shouldn’t have said it that way. Jaune, you’re my friend. You will not hurt me or take advantage of me. You will be discreet. And there’s no male I trust more. Even if Ren wasn’t already taken by Nora, Qrow too old— _and_ taken by my sister—and Oscar a teenager, I would want my first time to be with you.”

Jaune could not meet those blue eyes. “Yeah? What if Neptune was here?”

“Neptune and I shared a date, once. You and I have shared a hell of a lot more than that—even if it was only fighting battles or losing friends.” Weiss leaned against the door, tempted to put her nightdress back on and forget the whole thing. She couldn’t believe Jaune was arguing with her. She thought he would already be doing to her whatever Blake had been doing to Yang.

“You don’t love me, Weiss.” 

The words hit her like a slap. _So that’s it._

Weiss said nothing for a long minute, then walked over to Jaune. She reached up and touched his cheek with more gentleness than either of them thought possible. “You’re right,” she said softly. “And you don’t love me, Jaune. You’ll always love Pyrrha. That’s fine—I completely understand—but she wouldn’t want you to be celibate for the rest of your life, Jaune. Or unhappy.” Now it was Weiss who could not look Jaune in the eyes. “We don’t love each other, Jaune, though I hope that you at least like me. I like you a great deal. We may not ever love each other, but for a little while, we can be happy. We can be free. We can forget Salem and my father and Mantle and the whole sordid, shitty situation we’re in.” He blinked at her profanity; Weiss rarely cursed. She shook her head. “I’m a Schnee, Jaune, may the Good Brother have mercy. I’ll never say please like Pyrrha did. I can’t. I wish I could. We can’t love the ones we want, Jaune. But we can love the ones we’re with.”

Jaune took her hand “You know I’ve always liked you, Weiss.” He nodded, half to himself and half to her. “All right.” She nodded, but he held up a hand. “But, um…I don’t have any protection with me.” Weiss inwardly cursed herself for a fool. Of _course_ Jaune wouldn’t have protection—he had no reason to think he would need it until now. Not every male was prepared for instant sex, and she had certainly taken Jaune completely by surprise. _Almost as much as I took myself by surprise._ “You don’t…?” he asked.

“No.” She thought about it for a moment, bringing a finger to her lips in a pose Jaune had seen many times; it was the same one she wore at Beacon when trying to solve a problem. “Wait here, Jaune.” 

“Wait, I can go. I have some lien. There’s got to be a store or something—“

“No,” Weiss repeated. She was afraid if Jaune went running to find an all-night convienence store in Atlas, it could take hours—and she would change her mind by then. And Weiss did not want to change her mind. “I know where I can find one. Be right back.” She grabbed her nightdress, threw it back on, and left Jaune’s room.

“Wait,” Jaune said, as he tried to straighten the bed and make it look more presentable for a Schnee heiress, “Qrow and _Winter?”_

In the moment she had to think, Weiss had quickly thought of and then dismissed her teammates and friends. Ruby probably didn’t know what a condom was. Blake was unlikely, if for no other reason that her last male partner was Adam Taurus. She hoped Oscar didn’t have one, since that would not say much for him. That left Yang, Nora, or Ren. Yang would tease her unmercifully, assuming Yang even had one. Ren would say nothing, and though Nora might give her hell, something told Weiss that Nora would understand. 

She knocked on Ren and Nora’s door. Weiss could hear shuffling, a muttered word or two, and then Nora’s voice announce, “This better be good! We’re busy!” The door opened, just a bit—enough to expose Nora Valkyrie. Her hair was a mess, and only the door kept her modesty; Weiss could tell she was at the least topless. “Weiss?” Nora was surprised. “What’s wrong?”

Weiss felt herself turning red. “Nora, I don’t know how to ask you this, but…do you…have…a...um…”

“What?”

“A condom,” Weiss said in a rush.

“What’s that?” Nora snickered at the thunderstruck look on Weiss’ face. “Just kidding, Weiss. Sure, Ren has some. Why? What do you need it for?”

“What do you think?”

Nora looked quizzical at that. “Huh? But if you need it for _that,_ who are you with? It’s not Yang or Blake for sure, and you wouldn’t need it with Ruby…” Weiss was now as red as Fire Dust. “Can’t be Qrow, because ew, so that leaves Oscar and…” A slow, devilish smile spread across Nora’s face. “Oh _ho._ Everyone’s hooking up tonight, and Weiss doesn’t want to be left out, huh?”

“Nora—“

Nora winked. “Relax, Weiss. Be right back.” She pushed the door to a bit. Weiss waited for what seemed to be an eternity, dreading the sound of boots on the landing that would be her sister. Or Ironwood. Or her _parents._ Why any of them would be coming up to this section of the dorm after two in the morning was beyond her, but just the thought of it made Weiss’ blood run cold. Finally, Nora was back, and handed her a little package. “Here. Ribbed for your pleasure.”

“Thank you, Nora. I owe you.”

“Nahhh. Just have fun.” Nora turned serious for a moment. “Be gentle with him, Weiss. I know this is probably just for tonight, but Jaune has been through so much. Don’t break his heart. Not after Pyrrha.”

Weiss reached out and took Nora’s hand for a moment. “I would never do that, Nora.” 

Nora squeezed her hand and winked. “I know.” 

On the other side of the door, Nora laughed softly. “Losing your V-card tonight, huh?” She picked up her T-shirt from where she had hurriedly thrown it when Weiss had woken her, and threw it on over her naked chest. Then she gently crawled back in bed with Ren. 

He stirred. “Nora? What is it?”

“Nothing, Renny. Just go back to sleep.” She held onto him until he drifted off. “Everyone’s hooking up but us tonight,” Nora sighed. She gently stroked Ren’s hair. No matter how much she wanted Ren, they had been so exhausted that they had barely gotten into their sleepwear before they had both went out like the proverbial light. Where Yang, Blake, Weiss and Jaune were finding the energy she had no idea.

Still, Nora smiled as she felt herself falling asleep, Yang and Blake, and Jaune and Weiss, were just now hooking up. She and Ren had been quietly making passionate love since the night after Beacon fell.

Weiss silently dashed back into Jaune’s room, closed the door, and smiled. The lights were off, but somehow Jaune had scrounged a candle and lit it, giving the room a soft glow. She suspected the candle was taken from the room’s emergency kit, but it was the thought that counted. He stood next to the bed and bowed deeply to her. “Your bed awaits, ma’am.”

She almost burst out laughing, but instead, she picked up the ends of the nightdress and curtsied. “Thank you, good sir.” She set the condom down on the nightstand, then threw off the dress for she hoped was the last time for awhile. She reached up to take off the camisole, and hesitated. “Jaune…if you don’t want to…”

“I do, Weiss. Really.”

“Thank goodness.” Weiss pulled off the camisole. She took a breath, knowing there was no stopping now, and in one quick move, pulled off the panties. She picked up her camisole and underwear and carefully set them aside, atop the nightdress. Weiss saw that Jaune was watching her with wide eyes and reflexively covered herself, although there was no way he had not already seen everything.

“We can stop,” Jaune assured her.

“No, I want to do this. I’m just nervous. I don’t even know why.”

Jaune took a step forward. He wore only his boxers, and Weiss was surprised to realize just how toned he had gotten. Swinging a broadsword had a way of building up muscle, and she could not help but think Pyrrha would be very proud of how Jaune had turned out. Gone was the gawky, skinny kid of Beacon; in the boy’s place was the man Jaune Arc had become. He might not have the bulging muscles of Cardin Winchester or the ridiculously-toned abs of Sun Wukong, but what was there was not hard on her eyes whatsoever. He reached out his arms. “Wait, what are you doing?” she shrilled softly.

“Weiss, just relax, okay? Please.” Jaune gently gathered her into a hug. Weiss blinked and found herself breathing hard. Jaune was warm, and soon she was too. He completely enfolded her, reminding her once more of their height difference—Jaune was nearly a foot taller—and before she even realized she was doing it, her arms were around him, feeling the back muscles, and now their skin was pressed against him. Weiss swallowed: that meant her breasts—her _naked_ breasts—were against his chest. 

Jaune was not idle. He reached up and began stroking her hair, slowly and with incredible softness. He ran his fingers through her silken, white locks from her scalp to the small of her back, separating each strand before running back up to her head with gossamer touches.

Weiss was stunned. She’d always loved her hair; brushing it was a good form of stress relief, along with beating something up with Myrtenaster. She had never thought that it could be erotic. She stared up at him, and Jaune leaned down to kiss her. For a fleeting moment, Weiss almost refused—remembering the boy who had sung that horrible song to her, the boy that threw up on the airship every time they went to Vale, the one who had cheated to get into Beacon—and promptly forgot the boy for the man that kissed her.

No one had ever kissed Weiss like this before. Neptune had to be satisfied with a peck on the cheek after the dance, while Ruby had once playfully kissed Weiss on the lips for no other reason than Yang had dared her to. This was not a consolation prize or a childlike dare: this was an adult kiss. Almost against her will, Weiss felt her mouth opening under Jaune’s, accepting his rough tongue in her mouth. He wasn't the best at it—he went a little too far and nearly caused her to gag—but it was the first time. When he withdrew, Weiss found herself laughing.

“What?” Jaune asked, wondering if he’d managed to screw _that_ up.

“Nothing,” Weiss replied. “Just thinking I could get used to that.” He gave her a perplexed expression, and Weiss shrugged. “Never been kissed on the lips, let alone played, ah—“

“Tongue hockey? That’s what Yang calls it.”

Weiss snorted. “Yang said that? Figures.” She let go of Jaune, a little reluctantly, and deliberately stepped back. Deliberately, she put her arms behind her back. Jaune had not gone into huge detail about his and Pyrrha’s abortive first time, but he had mentioned this. “I hope you’re not much of a, um, a breast man. I’m a little on the flat side.” 

“You’re fine,” Jaune told her, and meant it. Actually, he had overheard Yang—who else—mention to Blake that Weiss had been visited by the Titty Fairy somewhere between Beacon and Argus. She _had_ gotten bigger since Beacon, but even if Weiss hadn’t, Jaune would still appreciate the view. They were smaller than Pyrrha’s but just as firm, with tiny nipples that he thought were rather cute. “Besides, I’m more of a leg guy.” 

Weiss suddenly had an idea. She took another step back, controlled her breathing, and went up on tiptoes in a _sur les pointes._ Her father had demanded that his daughters learn ballet, but Winter had shown Weiss how ballet training could be used in combat. Now she was going to use it for something else. Keeping her eyes fixed on Jaune, she carefully balanced on her left foot and raised her right peripendicular to the other. Besides showing her amazing sense of balance, it was also opening her up her nether lips below the white fluff of her pubic hair. 

Jaune’s eyes were huge. They got bigger as she rotated the right foot enough to grip it with her hand, splaying her open even more. His eyes weren’t the only thing that got bigger. Weiss noticed with increasing interest Jaune’s member beginning to swell underneath the boxers. She assumed another position, bending over and reaching out her right hand to him, still balancing on her left foot and raising her right. It gave Jaune not only a nice view of her breasts, but also her perfect rear. His erection was now tenting the boxers enough to cause the waistband to come away from his stomach.

“Weiss,” he croaked, mouth dry as the Vacuo desert.

“Come to me,” she commanded. As if hypnotized, Jaune walked forward and took her hand. She dropped back down to both feet. “Now take me—against the wall.”

Unbeknownst to Jaune, or anyone else for that matter, Weiss Schnee had long entertained an erotic fantasy. She imagined that she would be pressed against a wall and taken from behind, to be made love to with vigor—no, she corrected herself, to have her _brains banged out._ Jaune was more than willing to indulge, and his boxers hit the floor in Remnant-record time, freeing a hard, throbbing, and very eager penis. Weiss blinked with the realization that it was going to be shortly buried in her, probably repeatedly, and wasn’t sure to moan with anticipation or scream in panic, especially when Jaune turned her around and pressed her—gently—against the wall. She bent over to give him better access. _Oh Dust,_ she thought, heart pounding, _here it comes! I hope it doesn’t hurt too much…Winter warned me—_

Suddenly, Weiss stood up, whirled, and put her hands out. “Jaune, stop! We have to stop.”

Jaune froze. “What? Did I hurt you? I mean, I didn’t even…”

“No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s not you. I’m just…I don’t know what…I'm scared, I'm...” Weiss felt tears well up in her eyes. “Dammit! Now I’m crying! Why am I crying? What the hell is wrong with me? I'm an idiot! A stupid, stupid idiot!" 

Jaune looked at his feet. “Weiss, c’mon…don’t be so hard on yourself—“

“I’ve ruined it! The mood’s gone! Jaune, I’m…” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

To her surprise, Jaune laughed. “Well, let’s see.” He began ticking the points off on his fingers. “Neither one of us thought we’d be doing this tonight. We had to sneak into Atlas and got caught. We don’t know if Ironwood’s plan is going to work. We both nearly got killed in Haven. We’re up against someone that can’t be killed. I’m still in love with someone else that I probably should be over. You’re scared you’re going to die a virgin.” He paused, then ticked off a ninth finger. “And I totally forgot to put on the condom anyway.” 

“Oh, right.” Weiss suddenly let out a girlish giggle. “Well, Jaune, you’ve certainly summed up the situation. When did you get so mature?”

“Somewhere between Beacon and Argus, I guess.” He sighed. “Do you still want to do this? It’s really okay if you don’t.” 

Weiss considered it. She could get dressed, admit the whole thing was a mistake, borne of fear—Jaune was right; she _was_ scared she die a virgin, like Pyrrha—and of envy. She wanted something of what Yang and Blake had, and what Jaune and Pyrrha had. No one had ever loved Weiss like that, and she wanted to be loved. More desperately than she had ever considered until that moment. And there was still that feeling of emptiness between her legs that wanted to be filled. “Yes, Jaune. If you still want to. I’ve really… _fucked_ this up.” She laughed again, at her own profanity.

He suddenly brightened. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Can you get on the bed?” Weiss shrugged; the wall was what she wanted, but the bed was probably more comfortable. He sat down first, and pointed between his legs. Weiss wasn’t sure what he wanted, but then realized that Jaune was giving her the opportunity to be on top. _But he doesn’t have the condom on yet, and his erection's gone...nice going, Weiss._ “Weiss, just sit down. On the bed.” She did so, drawing her knees up, but then he got her to turn around so her back was to him. She sat between his legs, her own legs stretched out and slightly apart. Weiss admitted to herself that she was a bit of a leg person too, and a near-continent of walking had given Jaune some very muscular thighs, covered with a thin bit of blond hair that thickened as it reached his groin. 

“Now I’ve been doing some reading,” Jaune explained. “The first time for a girl can hurt, right? I mean, with losing your, uh, hymen and everything—“

“I don’t have one,” Weiss interrupted. “A hymen. I tore mine.”

“Oh. Um…okay.” Jaune was a bit confused. This wasn’t in the books or the internet. Virgins were supposed to have one. “So what happened?”

Weiss was tempted to ask why the hell that mattered, but told him. “When I was fourteen, Iet’s just say I discovered the joys of self-stimulation. And like a lot of stupid girls, I used something that I shouldn’t have…down there.” She pointed at her crotch. She remembered the terror of seeing blood coming out at a time when blood was _not_ supposed to be coming out. That had earned her a trip to the hospital, a lecture from Winter, and a good deal of drinking from Willow Schnee. Jacques either never found out or had the wisdom to not bring up the subject. 

“Did you use, er…”

Weiss looked back at Jaune with freezing eyes. “Yes, Jaune, I stuffed Myrtenaster up myself, because I’m going to put a stainless steel, silver-plated, knobbed sword hilt loaded with explosive Dust in my vagina. No, you dolt, it was a polished wooden bedpost! I had unscrewed it from my bed. It was the right shape as a…well, a penis. As far as I knew, anyway.”

Jaune winced. “That sounds like hurt a lot.”

“Like I said, I was being stupid. Much like a minute ago.” The mood was evaporating again, faster than a dead Grimm.

“Anyway,” Jaune said, changing the subject as rapidly as possible, “it can hurt, right?”

“Yes, Jaune. My sister warned me that, even without a hymen, it’s probably going to hurt.” She pointed at the scar on her abdomen, where Cinder’s spear had gone through her. Jaune had helped to heal her, but it had still left a puckered scar, the only blemish on otherwise flawless skin. “I can handle pain.”

“But I read something,” Jaune protested, then took a page from Pyrrha’s book of strategy: deeds not words. With more than a little trepidation, he reached around and put his fingers on her still-damp folds. Weiss gave a little start at the sudden, intimate contact. 

“What are you doing?” she snapped.

“Shhh,” Jaune said, which surprised her. "Just relax. I got this." Softly, his fingers ran up the sides of Weiss’ labia. She sucked in her breath, but to her surprise, he did not touch her clitoris. Instead, he ran them back down, then up again, with maddening slowness. Each time, he came close to the sensitive nub, but never quite touched it. Weiss’ breathing quickened again. Each time Jaune got close, her thighs parted a little more. Jaune kept his right hand there, and moved his left hand to one breast. Weiss gave a small gasp as he grasped the nipple between his fingers. She felt her breasts tighten as the nipples became almost painfully erect. The other hand left off the sides to run up and down her slit. 

Weiss closed her eyes and leaned back against Jaune, allowing herself to splay open completely. She'd never felt anything like this. This is what it was supposed to be like. When Jaune finally touched the swollen clitoris, Weiss let out a groan and pressed herself into his fingers. “Are you close?” he whispered into her ear, just before touching it with his tongue. An electric jolt shot from her ear to her groin, and Weiss could not hold back a loud moan. She nodded frantically. “That’s good. Just hold on a sec.” He left off her opening, and she replaced his fingers with her own. Jaune quickly grabbed her hands and forced them back to her sides. “Don’t move,” he commanded, and Weiss wanted to do nothing but obey him, which surprised her more than anything tonight.

She heard the condom wrapper being thrown aside. In the haze of lustful stimulation, she had barely noticed that Jaune was hard again, the head, hot and throbbing, resting just at the small of her back. She thought she could feel him fumbling around, heard a muttered Mistrali curse, then he whispered, “Got it.” Weiss felt herself being lifted up. _When did he get so strong?_ she asked herself.

“Okay,” Jaune told her, voice shaky, “here we go. Tell me if I hurt you.” She was now resting against his abdomen, her legs wide open. First she felt the tip of the condom, then the warm head of Jaune’s member pressing against her. “Weiss?”

_“Please,”_ she pleaded.

“Right…okay…” She could feel Jaune catching his breath. Weiss could not tell who was shaking more, Jaune or her, and if it was from raw fear or pure desire. With agonizing gentleness, he pushed into her. 

“Nnngh,” Weiss grunted in pain, and Jaune instantly stopped. She did not trust her voice, so she pushed downwards as much as she could. It _did_ hurt, but not too badly, not too badly at all. She felt the pecuilar sensation of being stretched inside, and then the odd feeling of being filled. “Okay?” That was rapidly becoming Jaune’s favorite word. He didn’t move.

Weiss was an analytical person, so she took a moment to analyze the current situation. It was almost as if she was outside her own body, looking down at the tableaux of Jaune Arc and Weiss Schnee, the poor knight with no name making love to the rich heiress with the most famous name in Remnant. He was holding her lightly, with her legs resting on his. Curious, Weiss reached down and felt where he was entering her, running her fingers over his testicles, feeling the base of the latex condom. Her fingers moved up to where they joined. “Yes,” she spoke softly. “It’s okay, Jaune.”

“Whew! I’m glad. Now let me see here…” He gave a tentative thrust. Weiss winced a little, but nodded; it didn’t really hurt much at all. Another one, and the pain was just sort of there. With his third one, she met it with a thrust of her own. 

It wasn’t perfect. They never did find a good rhythm: for every mutual thrust, there were three where the stroke was off, which a detached part of Weiss’ mind noted with dissatisfaction. Jaune was trying to play with her nipples again, but he kept having to grip her sides to keep her from slipping off. They had to stop for a second when Weiss had a coughing fit, as her throat was so dry from breathing so hard, and Jaune, despite all the training he had done, had to pause every now and then to catch his own breath. And the pain never quite stopped completely. 

It wasn’t perfect. It was _glorious._

Weiss abandoned herself. She was tossing her head, hitting Jaune in the face with curtains of white hair. “Jaune! Jaune! Please! Please!” She was begging now, something she’d sworn she’d never do, ever, but her pride was forgotten now. She could feel the pressure building, that wonderful ballooning feeling in the pit of her stomach, but so much more interesting this time, because it wasn’t her fingers or something artificial. It was like a tidal wave reaching its apex. _“Please, Jaune!”_ Weiss was trying to keep her voice down and not succeeding very well. She bit her lip, so wanting to scream like Yang had, to yell at the top of her lungs Jaune to fuck her until she passed out, but her last shred of Schnee pride kept her from that--barely. 

But then the wave crested, and broke.

To her credit, Weiss did not scream. She gritted her teeth, determined that she was _not_ going to lose control completely, unaware that she really already had. Her fists pounded against Jaune’s thighs, and her back arched. Her breath left her through her teeth in one, long, satisfied sigh, and she tried to concentrate on the feeling of herself pulsing, gripping Jaune uncontrollably. 

Then she felt Jaune tense up. He had been silent to this point, other than puffing like he was running a marathon. She could not know that, while Jaune had admirably been able to hold back despite having Weiss Schnee squirming atop him, the feeling of her coming put him over the top as well. Mutual orgasm was a rarity, but somehow Jaune and Weiss managed to achieve it on their first try. He jerked spasmodically, then gasped out, “Weiss! Oh gods, Weiss!” Weiss barely had time to register that when Jaune pushed as deep as he could go, then felt him ejaculating inside of her. She half-smiled. Like everything else tonight, that was a rather fascinating and peculiar feeling. _He said my name. Not Pyrrha’s. Mine._

They lay there, covered in sweat, exhausted, trying to catch their breath. Then there was a knock at the door.

“Oh shit,” Weiss breathed.

Jaune gulped down some air, then raised his voice. “Who is it?” His voice came out an octave higher than usual, and Weiss bit her lip again, this time to stop from laughing.

“Penny. Penny Polendina.” Weiss and Jaune looked at each other, and she mouthed, _Penny?_ “Is everything all right? I heard you yelling.”

“Oh _no,”_ Weiss whispered. She was already flushed, but that shade of red got a few shades deeper.

“We’re good, Penny!” Jaune reassured the android. “Yep! We’re doing just fine. We’re all fine here. Yes, ma'am. Couldn't be better."

“Well…okay.” There was silence for a moment. “Are you sure? Because—“

Weiss raised her voice this time. “Penny, I’m quite all right. Thank you for checking.”

“Ah! All right, then. Sorry to disturb you.” They heard her boots moving down the hall—towards Yang and Blake’s room. Once more, Jaune and Weiss shared a look, then they burst into laughter, trying to muffle it. Not to make fun of Penny, who was both fulfilling her programming to protect, and being a friend, but at the mutual idea that she might be knocking on Yang and Blake’s door to ask if _they_ were all right.

Carefully, the two of them got Jaune disconnected, as it were. He slowly got the condom off, wrapped it in a tissue, and deposited it in the garbage can. Then he got out from under Weiss, walked naked to the little refrigerator, and pulled out a bottle of water. He handed it to Weiss, who gratefully took the top off and drank a good third of it. She handed it back, and Jaune also drank quite a bit. “Whew,” he puffed, and sat on the bed. 

“Thank you,” she told him. “For the water. Amazing the dry mouth this gives you.”

“All that panting…it’s only natural.” He bent over and took another drink.

Weiss put a hand on his back. “Jaune…thank you. Not just for the water. For everything.”

“Twern’t nuthin’, ma’am.” They snickered at that. “But really, Weiss…it was good? You, um…you…you know…”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Yes, Jaune, I most assuredly came. You even have to ask? It was…” She struggled to find words. “Amazing. Positively amazing.” _How did I not enjoy that sooner?_ Weiss asked herself. _Because you didn’t know who you could trust,_ she answered herself. “Thank you,” she said again.

“Thank _you._ I guess…I guess we’re not dying virgins now, huh?”

“We’re not dying,” Weiss said with determination. “And this was more than that, Jaune. I was a fool to think that.” She leaned against him. “I don’t know where we go from here. But I do know that I don’t want this to be the end, if you don’t.” He looked flustered, so Weiss hugged him. “You don’t have to answer right now.”

Jaune still looked down. “I don’t…know if I love you, Weiss.”

“I don’t love you either, Jaune. But I cherish you.”

“Yeah, me too.” Jaune paused. “I mean, I cherish _you,_ not that I cherish myself. I mean, I do, but—“

Weiss gently lowered them both to the bed. “I understood you perfectly, Jaune.” She stroked his chest and the light peach fuzz there. “All right if I stay here? I really don’t feel like explaining this to Penny if she’s still out there.”

“Sure. But they have to know, Weiss. I mean, Ruby’s right next door, and Nora knows, and if Nora knows, Ren knows. And probably Yang will figure it out, and she’ll tell Blake. And are you going to tell your sister?” Jaune suddenly had a horrible vision of Winter Schnee coming after him with a sword. 

Weiss thought about it for a moment. “Who cares? It’s none of their business.”

“You’re not bothered by it?”

“Nope.” The answer surprised her. Weiss Schnee, the former heiress to the Schnee fortune, who had come to Beacon not feeling but knowing she was superior to everyone else, who prized her reputation above everything else. Now she didn’t care if Team RWBY, Team JNR, the Schnee Dust Company, Atlas, Mantle, and the entire World of Remnant up to and including Salem and Cinder Fall knew that she was sleeping with Jaune Arc. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said to her.

Weiss smiled. She was naked, her hair was a mess, she was sweaty, her back didn’t feel quite right, her groin ached, her toes hurt—she hadn’t done a _sur les pointes_ in awhile—and she wanted sleep like a starving man wanted food. Jaune wasn’t in much better shape. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She curled up next to him, and felt Jaune’s breathing gradually slow into sleep. 

Her eyes closed and Weiss felt herself drifting off. _I’m sorry, Pyrrha,_ she thought as sleep took her. _Wherever you are, I’m sorry that it’s me naked, next to Jaune, and not you. You should be here. I’m sorry._

_It’s all right, Weiss. Thank you for being there for him. Thank you for giving him what I never could._ The voice was so real that Weiss’ eyes snapped open and she looked frantically around the room, expecting to see Pyrrha Nikos standing there, at the foot of the bed, or over by the counter. 

But of course there was nothing. Weiss fluttered back into slumber, and yet, she thought she felt a gentle hand on her brow. _Thank you._

**Author's Note:**

> There now, that's better. Was that really Pyrrha's ghost or Weiss' imagination? You decide.
> 
> Next up is Ruby. But will it be Rosegarden, Nuts and Dolts, or what? Well, we'll see.


End file.
